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cas-backwards-tie · 1 year

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Chapter One: Hesitations Downfallen

Thomas Hewitt x Reader

The Family Name

Summary: Stuck in traffic in an overheated car with your fellow camp counselors, you're left with a decision that could buy you more time to chill before the kids arrive at camp, or that'll lead to a major scolding from the Head Counselor.

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: Cursing, Impulsive Behavior, Peer Pressure, Racism (if you squint), Assault,

A/N: This is something that's... so random for me, personally, to write. I think it's because I'd been following the beta'ing of TCM game and then watching as it released. So we can thank Delirious for this! Considering this is also out of my usual element, I think it'd be fun to experiment with and write something a little more gruesome, unruly, and dark.

It felt like it went on forever, the endless highway turning into road as you lean your head against the window. “I don’t know why they chose to go this way when there’s a fucking downed bridge! If they just followed the map they’d see it’s much quicker if we hopped off and got back on at the Two-Ninety Junction.”

Eyes shifting to the two yellow buses leading your caravan down to Pedernales State Park, you let your attention flicker back out your window onto the grassy plains that seem to stretch on into the distance. Trees sporadically line the walls of fence that edge the highway, roofs of houses now having lessened in number now that you've passed Austin. The plush green and cream-colored grass swaying in the wind is relaxing juxtaposed to the stagnant piled-up highway that’s been directly in front of the car for the past forty minutes.

“Guess someone didn’t read the papers this morning-“ Connie says, “or they were just too lazy to reroute the trip.” The comment elicits a laugh from the group of friends and colleagues you’d been pushed to travel with. As one of the returning counselors this summer at Camp Cherry Springs, there’d been an initiative to get to know the new recruits that had the pleasure of joining you and the more experienced counselors— Connie, Sonny, Leland, Julie, and Ana—in the cars while the ones who’d taken the short straws wound up joining the kids on the buses for the three-hour drive.

With a jerky stop-and-go, cars begin moving ever so slowly. "There's an opening, Lee!" Julie exclaims with a little bounce in her seat as she points out a dodgy game of cutting people off to get to the nearest exit on the highway. Sonny groans in his seat, sitting back against the sticky warm fabric of the car. He fans himself with one hand as you've all been trapped in the car without air conditioning for the past twenty minutes. The engine had started to compensate when it'd begun to overheat.

"Let's just get on with it! If we can get off, find a bathroom, and maybe get something to drink before getting back on the road and still beating them to camp, then I'm in," Sonny concedes. Ana looks between you and Sonny in the backseat, questioning whether she should encourage Julie and Leland's impulsive behavior or stay with the caravan, as directed by the Head Counselor: AKA the Boss.

"Mm, if Sonny's in then I gotta say go for it! What about you?" Ana turns her attention to you for a moment before eyeing Connie in the back. "Connie?"

"Hit the pedal, Lee!" Connie encourages. With the exit just feet away, Leland turns on his turn signal, giving scarce warning before turning the wheel and cutting across three lanes of traffic to get off the highway. The line at the light is still fairly long, but not nearly as horrifying as the seemingly neverending stall of traffic on the highway. Soon enough the street light turns green and you're able to cut a right turn and head down Julie's supposed shortcut.

With a fifteen-minute ride down a local highway, you wind up eventually taking a left, and then a right, and now the town's shops and homes start to turn into barns and acres of farmland. You don't mind, however, the cows, horses, and occasional sheep are a nice welcome compared to the previous mechanic purgatory everyone seemed to be suffering in considering the air-conditioning had stalled. Now, however, the air is back on, though it's not needed. The sun has passed its peak, windows are down, and cool air is freely flowing through the windows of the car, creating a vacuum of pleasant and exhilarating wind.

The thump of the bass of the music playing on the classic hits channel is something you could easily find yourself bopping to, glad your friends had taken that chance. Hand out the window, you watch as it dances in the wind, making shapes with your fingers and letting the wind drift around it. Sipping on the slushie you got back at the Quik-Trip you'd stopped at a few miles back, you let yourself hum in delight at the cool sugary sweet taste. Ana passes over the corn chips and you pop a few into your mouth, crunching away, a blissful contrast of sweet and salty coating your tongue.

No longer antsy and intent on getting to camp as quickly as humanly possible, you can easily see on the clock that you're well ahead of schedule. Once again you've found yourself admiring the scenery, farmland occasionally now interspersed with factories and a ghost town or two. While not uncommon in this area, you find it intriguing to imagine what the towns must've once been like. Surely, someone at some point built the place and was intent to live there. So what was their story? Distracted and lost in thought, you hardly tune in when Sonny speaks up. It's only when Leland repeats what the former must've said that you realize it's more pertinent than you'd thought.

"Bathroom? Good luck finding one out here, bud!" Leland laughs, shaking his head. "Just go in the cup and chuck it out the window."

"I've... actually gotta go too," you speak up hesitantly. Leland's current attitude toward Sonny isn't the nicest, and while you know that Sonny's the odd one out, you can't help but feel compassion for him. The man releases a quiet groan, fingers tapping against the side of the driver's door as he thinks.

"Well, if you see anywhere we can actually stop, then say somethin'!"

Though you'd needed to pee about ten minutes ago, the urge increases, and you all are running out of stops. "Good Barbecue Ahead!" Ana reads a sign as you pass it on a side road. Though some of the places you've been passing have become more sparse and give an eerie sense of de trop. "Maybe they'll have a bathroom there?" She proposes.

"Good idea," Connie compliments, hands resting on the back of your guys' seat. "Plus we could grab another couple snacks if need be."

Focused on the bouncing of your leg, you try to keep calm. You hadn't thought things through before getting a big slushie at the convenience station back there. Luckily, your friends had your back.

As trees pass and the grassy plains start to look a little more habitable, more wildlife emerging, you know you're getting close. "There it is! Pull over, Leland," Julie commands. Knowing Leland, he'd joke, drive past, and then turn around only to go in. Or make Sonny just go in the cup if you hadn't needed to go. A cruel joke, boys being boys, they'd argue.

As the car comes to a stop, Leland decides he'll top off the gas. Sonny races for the bathroom. Ana debates staying in the car while Connie decides to see what barbecue they have. Of course, you follow after Sonny.

Quick Soda. The name of the service station. Underneath the red Coca-Cola-resembling sign lies another one in darker red reading: We Slaughter BARBECUE. The presentation is nice. Pushing the slated swing doors open, you see a bar to your right while a counter lies on your left. Connie inspects whatever's inside the counter's display case, while Ana seemingly decided to join and look at the little gift shop trinkets. "Can I help you?" A sweet and drawn-out voice causes your attention to drift over to the far right where an older lady stands behind a cashier's stand. You hadn't noticed it at first.

"Oh! Hello- Hi- Yes. Do... you guys have a bathroom by chance, Miss?" You ask. While she'd caught you off-guard, you still want to be polite. Even if the need to pee is becoming increasingly more urgent.

"Same as I told that boy. It's 'round back. Got signs on 'em. One for the men, one for the women... 's open." With an unaffected face, she seems ready to end the conversation before sticking her hand out a little for your attention just as you'd turned. "Tell yer frien' to slow down, why don'tcha?" She chuckles.

"Will do, Ma'am. Thank you," you retort, offering a playful smile and nod before heading back outside and around the back.

While the front may have been trim and proper, the further back you go, the less unruly the grass gets. The outhouse looks fine enough, even if it's a little shabby. Luckily, it's only this once. Well... until you get to camp. But it isn't anything unfazing. Country life is different, after all! There's a long white fence out back behind everything, some boards broken, though overall a nice picture of the country as farmland spans on for miles behind it. A few trees scatter the edge of the property, some wildflowers poking out of bushes and the tall grass.

In the outhouse, it doesn't take long for you to... take care of business. Fortunately, there was toilet paper, even if it was one-ply and not the best, you made do. After all, you're sure the shopkeepers are doing what they can and so far their business strikes you as impressive for what you'd seen of the town so far on the way here. That being, there wasn't much of one, really. Though people out here are probably used to a longer commute, you figure. Upon exiting the outhouse you hear a whimpering that catches your attention, worry emerging.

Interest piqued, you walk over to the source of the noises coming from a spot directly behind the wooden building by the fence. After a moment of pulling the tall grass back, you find your lips parting as a silent cry lingers in your throat.

--------

Like an angel surrounded by white and pink, the color of all things lovely, there's an innate femininity in the way she holds herself. Perhaps it was the jewelry adorning her earlobes, neck, and fingers, or the way her face was painted that day... yet ultimately it was a sight to behold there in the flesh. A swish of her long locks over her shoulders to gracefully tumble down her back, her eyes set upon him.

Lips parting in surprise and shock at the unexpected sight, astonishment is the only word that comes to mind. It's the one that made her hesitate momentarily as she took in his soft-looking curly locks and the intense set of eyes drawing her to the giant before her.

Only a matter of a yard and a half stood between them, yet it didn't take long for reality to set back in. With determined, purposeful long strides, he attempts to close the distance before she even thinks to run. The woman whips her head back toward whatever she'd been looking at before meeting his eye once more.

Putting her hands up in a silent command, she makes a pushing movement twice, a telltale sign for him to 'stop' or 'wait'. He knows that much. Repeating her earlier movement of gauging something in the grass beside her, beautiful light eyes find dark ones again. The man hadn't slowed down from her perception, yet he'd been taken aback for a split-second, causing him to second-guess his familial orders. Finger raised to her lips, she commands him again. It flicks downward till she's pointing at the shielded spot. Whatever lie in the grass, it's not visible to him from the few feet still lingering between them. Her vision shifts again, yet once they meet his, it's over.

Another surprise, a fortuitous omen, perhaps, if one believed in such things. An unforeseen exchange, something he never would have predicted upon waking this morning; a smile graces her lips. Teeth peek out from behind her rosy lips as her hands curl up in front of her, beckoning him over with a tacit motion. Upon first glance, he could admit to himself that his reaction was not one he anticipated, personally. Though the signs and motions elicit a curiosity that one cannot deny has its clutch on humanity. Especially those that are sheltered from much of life's offerings. It doesn't even feel like a decision; at least, not a conscious one, at that. Thomas slows his pace down to a quiet, normal approach. While the woman may not know that her implicit request was unnecessary, being there no current reason to speak, he follows suit, nonetheless.

"Look!" She quietly calls, voice traveling the short distance between them now as he bends her knees slightly, vision returning to that patch of grass once more. "Look."

While it may annoy him to no end that whatever it is certainly has more intrigue than him, the excitement that fills him in anticipation is exhilarating. There's a fear too, no doubt, a worry that she will make a break and run for it once he finally gets close enough. However, the kind regard has left him feeling a multitude of emotions he can't begin to comprehend, nor analyze at this moment in time.

As the giant of a man slowly gets within reaching distance, she points out the object of her focus in hopes of sharing a fond memory with someone. None of her friends had come in search of her, and while the saying of 'stranger danger' is by no means simply a children's tale, she's found there tend to be many more friends than foes in the world. "Look at how cute," she whispers, the smile never leaving her lips as she shifts her vision between the giant and the sight. Within the tall green grass sat behind the rest stop's main building there the woman had heard a quiet 'chittering' upon exiting the outhouse. Being one of a curious nature, she found that in a divet where the grass has clearly been passed over many times, there was an open bundle of kindling, soft fur, twigs, and grass all twined together. That, though, had not been the cause of her smile. Inside, a nest of baby bunnies were wiggling and squirming about as a way of seeking each other and their warmth out.

Hands on her knees, the woman finally looks back at him, this time with a concerned look in her eyes. "Do you think their mom abandoned them?" Thomas' eyes finally detach from the adorable sight before them. He wants to tell her that 'No. It's unlikely,' yet he can't bring himself to. She shakes her head, a smile reappearing on her face once more as her attention returns to the sight before them. "What am I saying? Of course not. She's probably out getting food for them or something. They're fine." Watching the woman straighten her posture, he does the same, however, he still overwhelms her stature by easily over a foot and a half if not more.

A little daunted by his stature, she continues to smile through the uncomfortability of being so close to a stranger, a man, at that. "Right?" She asks, attempting to break the silence between them as he still hasn't said anything. He hadn't even commented on how cute the baby bunnies were! Their fluffy little bodies and tiny ears still pressed to the napes of their necks, eyes not yet opened. Watching him slowly nod his head, eyes having never left hers once they'd both come to a stand, she's finally relieved that she's not talking to a wall. Just as she searches his eyes and goes to say goodbye, he quickly brings his intertwined hands down upon her head. There's a feeling of falling, and then... blackness.

~~~~~~~~

forever taglist: @ohdamnadam , @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic , @moonlightsolo

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ofthehands · 8 months

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The Swing

A short fic about the swing made of railroad ties in the Sawyer's yard. ~3,300 words. Warnings for general Sawyer-isms/ some implied child abuse. It's a little sad, but not too heavy.

It was a hot summer morning. Jedidiah sat outside, with his eyes closed tight, and his hand over his wife’s. It was so hot outside her skin felt warm, and he could almost convince himself she was still alive. Jedidiah had no intention of moving, of ruining the moment he had with his Edith. Until he felt a soft tug at his shirt sleeve. He opened his eyes slowly, and looked down at his youngest grandson.

The little one was his favorite from the moment he was born. His oldest grandson was too much like him- in the face, in his heart, and in his heavy hands. When Jedidiah looked at Drayton, he could only see his mistakes. The middle boys- the twins- he was a little more fond of. There was novelty in having twins in the family again, his aunts were twins. But those boys were near rabid, and had the thinner, more weaslish features of their father. The twitchier of the two- either Nubbins or Bobby, Jedidiah honestly couldn’t remember- tried to get in his good graces, and would sometimes lay against his leg, calm-like and just talk to him. But the pair quickly fell into wrestling with each other again, and harassing their brothers. It was just their nature, like an old barn cat they would always be a little wild. Junior was special. He had a softer voice, and he was as kind hearted as it was possible for a Sawyer to be. And he had Edith’s eyes. There was something about that- something that got to Jedidiah’s cold old heart. Even though Edith was dead, gone for a long time, their love still persisted, still existed in the world in Junior’s face, and gentle hands, and the way he sang and hummed softly to himself. He was a special boy. Jedidiah loved him more than anything.

Which was why, when the boy came to him with a problem of any sort, he did his absolute best to fix it. Junior made those soft noises he did, and whimpered, and held something out to Jedidiah. Jedidiah had to pull it close to his face to see it. His vision was going. At his age, everything was going.

It was a broken chain link, and little Junior kept pointing at it, and babbling, and pointing to something else, something further. Jedidiah stood, slow and unsteady, and Junior grabbed his arm, supporting him gently.

“Show me.”

It was the swing. The Sawyers had an old white bench swing. The paint had chipped over the years, and it was rickety as all hell. And apparently, when little Junior sat on it, it broke. Well, Junior wasn’t exactly little. He had always been a big boy, with big hands and feet. Jedidiah figured he would end up the tallest of the brothers, though he didn’t tell that to the twins, who were constantly trying to one up each other, and teasing their older brother with threats of catching up to him soon. Regardless, Junior was a big boy, and it was an old swing. Jedidiah would have to get creative if he wanted to keep it from breaking on him again. The world would keep spinning ‘round, with or without Jedidiah in it, and he wanted to make sure the swing stayed up for his grandson year after year.

“Don’t worry, Junior,” he said, his voice sounding weak even to his own ears. “Grandpa’ll fix it up.”

It was the biggest project he had taken on in years. But it felt good. He used to take on things like that all the time- fixing stuff up around the house, and working on furniture, and when they came out, working on cars. But, his hands got shakier, his mind fuzzier, and his body weaker, so his projects had slowed down. It felt good to be doing it again, to be working with his hands and with his body. He had fixed the chain first, reconnecting it where it had broken in the middle with the piece of chain Junior had handed him and a pair of pliers. Junior sat at his side, clapping his hands and chattering occasionally, and watching with rapt attention. Jedidiah looked around at the surrounding trees, but they were all either too high up or too thin to support Junior’s weight long term, especially if he got as big as Jedidiah thought he would. So he started to scrounge around the property, looking for something sturdy enough, with little Junior helping to hold him up.

It got to noon, or some time close to it, and he had still found nothing. He knew it was around noon, because the twins ran out of the house like someone had lit a fire under their asses so they could harass their eldest brother as he pulled up in the driveway. All that had happened was Drayton had come home from the gas station for lunch before he went back out, but for the twins it was one of the most exciting happenings of the day. Or, at least any day they didn’t catch some poor animal and drag it back into the house to play with.

“Drayton! Drayton!” yelled the more talkative one. Jedidiah couldn’t honestly tell the twins apart, especially not that far away. The talkative one- Nubbins? Bobby? Jed was pretty sure it was Bobby- lunged at his brother the moment he got out of the car, throwing his whole body at him. The boy was only 12, and Drayton caught him, lifting him off the ground, to his great amusement. The quieter, twitchier one snuck up on him, then jumped at his back, trying to scale him like a squirrel running up a tree.

“Wh- Goddamn- Nubbins- quit that!” Drayton yelped, tossing the brother in his hands back to the ground, where he started rolling in the dirt, laughing, as his older brother tried to grab Nubbins off his back. Nubbins tried his best to claw and bite his brother like a wild animal, which Bobby seemed to find hilarious, especially as it further pissed off Drayton. Nubbins didn’t break skin when he bit family members, usually, but it was still the kind of foolishness that made Jedidiah a little less fond of the twins. Junior was a good boy, rarely if ever up to foolishness, and whose occasional foolishness was usually related to the schemes of the twins. Drayton managed to dislodge Nubbins, and toss him at his other brother. It seemed to knock the wind out of them, but the boys were up and laughing and trying to roughhouse in a heartbeat, so Jedidiah didn’t worry.

Those boys were as tough as they come- they probably wouldn’t have a mark on them, and it certainly didn’t ruin their mood. Junior was soft, emotionally- roughhousing too much with him upset him. And Drayton, when he was as young as they were, was a bit soft physically. He didn’t have any playmates, not really, but Jedidiah remembered how the boy had developed a habit of wearing long sleeve shirts in 100 degree heat, shamefully trying to hide handprints bruised onto fragile skin. Jedidiah always thought he might be soft with the boys, and honestly he was softer with his brothers than their father had been with him, but he had a temper that got the better of him at the worst of times. But, the boys had learned that quickly, about their big brother, and they were good at understanding when he was playing with them, and when to scurry like rats, into corners of the house they thought he might not find them in.

It was good they had a strong man’s presence in the house. Jedidiah had his suspicions about Drayton, and he would put money on his grandson’s status as a confirmed bachelor, but it hadn’t held him back from being a solid male presence in his younger brother’s lives. Which, with their father gone and Jedidiah’s health failing, they would need. Jedidiah worried only about the lack of a woman in the house, but there was nothing really could be done about that. Drayton wouldn’t bring home a wife, and Jedidiah was happy with Edith- he had one true love and a wonderful life with her. He didn’t want more. So the boys would have to make do being raised by their Grandpa and their brother. Jedidiah was confident his boys would turn out fine. He just hoped he was around to see it.

By the time Jedidiah was done thinking about all that, he and Junior had almost walked all the way to the front door. He used to be quicker. He had been a strong man, and a fast one too. When the old sheriff had come by their house yappin’ about a serial killer Jedidiah had run him down like a dog and beat him to death in one clean hit with the sledge. Nowadays, though, just walking down to the mailbox was an all day trip. He sighed a little, and Junior noticed, looking up at him, and slowing down a little. He made a soft noise, questioning, probably asking if Jedidiah was alright.

“Grandpa’s fine, boy. Just thinkin’ is all.” He wished Junior would talk, the boy was at least seven years old now and he should have been talking a long time ago, but that just never happened. Jedidiah had gotten comfortable with the idea that he probably wasn’t going to. That was alright. He loved Junior regardless, and he knew, even if he never said the words, that his boy loved him too.

He needed to get his boy’s swing fixed.

“Oh, Grandpa, you’re uh- lookin’ bright eyed and bushy tailed today! You uh- you want some lunch? I- I got some fresh sausages today, cooked ‘em myself down at the gas station-” Drayton came up to them, rambling as usual.

“Boy, I need you to do somethin’ for me,” Jedidiah said, putting a hand on his arm. Drayton’s eyes lit up. He liked to feel useful. “You know those railroad ties, them big logs those fellers that own that roofin’ business got?”

“Oh, yeah- I- I seen those-”

“I need you to steal me some. Three, maybe four. Can you do that for me?” It wouldn’t be easy, for damn sure.

“Uh.. Yeah- I’m- I’ll figure it out.”

Jedidiah had to admit he was a little surprised when Drayton actually managed it. Drayton got home in the evening, a little earlier than expected, and brought the railroad ties with him. Drayton and the twins helped to unload them. Then Jedidiah got to work. He managed most of it on his own, with Junior or the twins occasionally coming out to watch him work on it, or to ‘help’. But, eventually, it got a little too hard to finish on his own. Jedidiah had worn himself out with the measurements, and the construction of the damn thing. He had built it laying down- that was the only way he could build it- and he still needed to get the back legs on the thing, which was going to be a bitch, and then tilt it all back up. He didn’t have the strength to do it, and even though Junior was a big boy, he doubted the two of them could get it done alone.

“Junior, get your brothers,” Jedidiah said. “All of ‘em.”

The boys didn’t question what Jedidiah told them, at least not too much. Drayton and the twins held up one of the back legs of the thing, while Jedidiah attached it. His hands were getting shaky, and weak, and he wasn’t sure how much more of this his old body could take. Junior sat in rapt attention, watching as he attached the first one.

“I want all you little’uns outta the way now- we gonna see if it can hold itself up.” The younger boys cleared, the less coordinated twin tripping over his feet, and being pulled up by the talkative one. Drayton was the only thing holding up the leg now. He was a grown man, but not an impressively strong man, but he wasn’t struggling. That was a good sign. It was probably holding its own weight. Which needed to happen- Jedidiah might not be able to attach the other leg if this one failed- he just didn’t have that kind of energy. “Alright. That looks good. Get on out of the way, boy.” Drayton moved, and let it hang. The leg stayed up on its own, and Jedidiah grinned. The swing wasn’t the most elegant thing he had ever built, but it was working. They just had to get the last leg on, and then tip it up, and it would be a job well done.

“G-Grandpa, I-I’m gettin’ tired,” the twitchy twin said.

“It won’t be much longer, hold still, damnit!” Jedidiah snapped. That was probably a lie. His hands wouldn’t cooperate any more, he could barely hold the tools he was working with, much less use them. Junior made a soft noise, and he looked up, still glaring a little. Junior held out his hand. And Jedidiah relented.

He guided Junior, step by step, through putting the last leg of the swing on. Sometimes, he had to lay his hands over Junior’s and show him how to do it physically, but the boy was catching on fast. Jedidiah hated losing control, hated the feeling of his body breaking down. But in that little moment everything felt alright.

It was more permanent. One day he wasn’t going to be there. He would be dead, though likely never gone, out on the porch next to Edith, preserved, but not present. But Junior would still have his swing. And come what may- stormy weather or the inevitable grip of time- Junior would know how to fix it. Jedidiah knew he wasn’t long for this world. But he also knew his boys were going to be alright.

They got the last leg attached, and the twins cheered and ran off before he told them to. Fortunately for Drayton, who was still under the damn thing, it was attached well.

“Boys, get back over here!” Jedidiah tried to yell. His voice didn’t carry enough and the two of them kept springing around the yard. “I thought them little shits was tired,” he huffed.

“Nubbins! Bobby! Get your asses over here!” Drayton yelled. The boys listened, unenthusiastically, but they listened.

“B-but we finished it!” said the smaller one.

“We finished it, we finished it!” the talkative one repeated, jumping up and down.

“Yeah,” Jedidiah said. “And now we gotta tip it upright.”

It took all the Sawyers to lift the damn thing, but when it went up, it flew back quick, landing on all fours with a slight bounce that sent the swing itself flying wildly. The younger boys thought that was funny, laughing and cheering and clapping their hands. And Jedidiah felt proud. Until the damn swing hit the frame and all the remaining white paint popped off like some kind of gag. Then he was mad as hell.

“Damn it all!” he snapped. He would have stormed off if he had the energy, but he didn’t, so he just stood there sullenly, shaking his head. That swing had been white the whole time they had it- since before any of the little ones were born, before Drayton was born, before Edith-

“W-wait Grandpa, we- we still got some ol’ white paint out in the shed. We could let the boys paint it up nice, and then have dinner, and then it’ll prob’ly be dry,” Drayton said. “Good as new!” It certainly wouldn’t be good as new. But Jedidiah figured it was better than nothing.

The boys got a kick out of painting the old swing. Drayton fetched Jedidiah a chair, and let him sit out there and watch them while he made dinner. Junior did it nicely, trying to have some artistry to it. The twitchier twin- Nubbins, Jedidiah was half-sure that was Nubbins- tried to do something similar for a while, before his counterpart spattered him with paint on purpose. Then the pair quickly turned to playing with it, painting each other more than the bench.

“Boys- quit waistin’ that paint. You know how hard that’ll be to get out of your clothes? Your brother’s gonna have a fit when he sees that.” The boys only sort of listened to their Grandpa, but he couldn’t find it in his heart to be mad at them.

The bench got painted, and he was shocked it turned out as well as it did. They went in for dinner, and the twins told everyone about their day, and the hornytoads they had been terrorizing. It was nice. The boys only got along so often, for so long, but it had been a good day. For once, just for a little while, there was peace. Jedidiah wished there had been more of that. He wished, for just a second, that they didn’t live like they did, that he could pretend the boys had some shot, that they could have good lives, that anything could live in this house, and live well. But he was suddenly overwhelmed with dread. His boys had been shot in the foot at the start of the race. There was nothing they could do, no one in their corner. Except for each other. God, he hoped they remembered to be good to each other.

Jedidiah did his best to hide all that worry- and to chase the dread away. His boys would be fine. Outsiders would hate them sure, but they didn’t need outsiders. They would be fine by themselves.

After dinner, the family made their way back outside. Drayton touched the bench a few times, and said it was dry, but as Jedidiah sat down it still felt a little sticky. He would have been mad about that, when he was a younger man. But it was a good day. He just sort of chuckled. Junior sat down on the bench with him, starting to swing them both back and forth. Jedidiah was bone tired, nearly asleep right there. Night time had come over them. The stars were out, and bright, and too many to count. He looked out at the field. Drayton was playing with the twins. Jedidiah had seen it happen a thousand times, so he was certain the boys had teased and annoyed him till he got up and chased them around a little, which devolved into a game of tag when they outran him long enough for him to cool down. Well, it was something like tag. Drayton was chasing the boys around, occasionally picking one of them up and spinning him or tipping him upside down, much to the twins’ great amusement. It was nice. Jedidiah rested his eyes for just a minute. He could hear them, still, the boys laughing and squealing as they were caught, and the soft song of crickets. Junior was humming something he couldn't quite recognize. He held his hand out and the boy caught it. He rubbed circles on the top of his little hand, and tried to commit that night to memory. There had been bad times. So many bad times. But there was good. His little family had nothing else. But they had each other. And in that moment, Jedidiah felt like it might be enough. He didn’t mean to, but he drifted off to sleep. He hadn’t even thought he could fall asleep on that swing, didn’t realize it till he woke up inside, in his chair, next to Edith. He could hear laughter from the other room. Trying to be quiet, but filled with just a little too much joy. He didn’t mind being woken up at all. He smiled a little, and took Edith’s hand.

“We done good,” he told her softly. “In spite of everythin’... It turned out alright.”

Grandpa didn’t stand again. Drayton said the day he fixed the swing must have been one last ‘hoo-rah’ from his body before it gave out. That made sense to Bubba. He could rarely remember Grandpa standing as long as he did that day, even with the help of one of his grandsons.

The years went on, and the old swing remained. It was impressively sturdy, Bubba could sit in it with the twins sometimes. But, most often, it was just him and Grandpa. When he could, when his chores were done or if Drayton and the twins kept fighting too loud, Bubba would take Grandpa outside, and sit him down in the chair, and just swing with him. Bubba never knew why Grandpa liked that swing so much that he spent his last big push of energy on fixing it, but Bubba enjoyed it too. And, more importantly, he liked spending time with his Grandpa.

#tcm #texas chainsaw massacre #tcm fanfic #grandpa sawyer #bubba sawyer #other sawyer brothers are present but not enough to warrant the tag i feel #kept thinking about that line in Chain Saw Confidential too much and now we're here #Im firmly of the belief either Bubba or Nubbins is grandpa's favorite #it sure aint drayton lol #thinking of making a little series of fics like this- moments in the sawyers lives where things are just sort of calm #with undertones of what's to come

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